


semi-transparency.

by azusa_konno (DecayedDruid)



Category: Readyyy! Project (Video Game)
Genre: Also Hiyori's scared of storms, And makes Hiyori soff and gay, Awkward Crush, Beginnings of a crush, But Azusa helps him, Crushes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hiyori continuing to not cope the greatest, M/M, Minor Angst, Romance, Secret Crush, so there's that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 12:21:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18591172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DecayedDruid/pseuds/azusa_konno
Summary: About eighty-six percent of the time, DearPro producer Hiyori Tsukasa existed without a shadow of a doubt. The other fourteen percent, he was the equivalent of a ghost. On the days that fell in the fourteen day percentile, there was a ninety-three percent change he'd be under a tree near the gazebo. A ninety-nine percent chance he'd be by himself. And a one-hundred percent chance he'd have a expression matching the translucent specter he imitated so well.





	semi-transparency.

**Author's Note:**

> I HAVEN'T WRITTEN THESE GUYS IN. SO LONG. Please enjoy!! Oh, to be specific, this is them _just initially_ developing feelings for each other. ~~At least, for Azusa, Hiyori's just the epitome of, "Oh no, he's cute, and I'm gay. What a disastrous mix."~~
> 
> I don't own Readyyy!, SEGA does. ... I do own Hiyori, though, please don't snatch my boy.

Sometimes, he wasn't sure if Hiyori really existed. More often than not--about eighty-six percent of the time, really--anyone could be sure without a shadow of a doubt that the producer known as Hiyori Tsukasa was a tangible person. Especially Azusa, of all of those people. But the other days--that other fourteen percent... One could reasonably wonder if the twenty-one year old was a ghost.

He would go throughout Shirasu House as silently as he came, and by the time someone needed him, he would've been gone for at least five to ten minutes at such a point. Days like that, everyone tried not to need Hiyori, for a list of reasons. No one relied on ghosts, it was foolishness in a best case scenario. So they'd often simply rely on each other instead, and in the end it wasn't a bad thing at all. No one complained... Severely, at least. 

After all, it was only a fourteen percent chance that Hiyori would decide to take on a more translucent existence for the day. When such a chance happened, it was a ninety-three percent possibility you'd find the producer sitting under a tree near the gazebo. When such a chance happened, there was a ninety-nine percent possibility he'd be alone. When such a chance happened, there was a one-hundred percent possibility he'd look every bit the specter he'd become--blank-faced, passive, silent.

Today was a day in which all the possibilities fell into Azusa’s favor, since it was a day that fell into the slim range of that fourteen percent. Indeed, that ninety-three percent was in favor for him being at the same tree he always went to. As such, he was alone as the ninety-nine percent dictated. His blank stare overlooking the scenery that was all too beautiful even under a grey blanket of agitated clouds was all too vacant. He wasn’t here to admire the melancholy scenery… of that, the idol could be certain.

Upon approaching the producer, Azusa softly murmured an apology for intruding on Hiyori’s space, kneeling and sitting down next to him. Hiyori barely flinched, the most movement he made was leaning and _perhaps_ scooching a bit to the side for the other. Azusa pulled his knees up, tucking them under his chin.

“You’re invisible again,” Azusa murmured. He didn’t expect Hiyori to understand, he was shocked at his own boldness to speak up. No one ever brought this up to Hiyori, no one approached him--about this, anyway. Azusa and Hiyori typically leaned on each other, and had for a while. Azusa opened up to the producer in ways he hadn’t to anyone else before, so in the end, he figured he couldn’t be too surprised. “Didn’t come out here to admire the landscape, I figured.”

“Mm,” Hiyori sighed in the end. He reclined his head back to rest it against the tree behind them, purple curls cushioning his head. His shoulders sagged with a weight far more see-through than anything else mentioned prior to now. He sat, silently, and if Azusa was honest he almost thought Hiyori just wasn’t going to answer him.

“You’re right, I wasn’t… I come out here to think, too, you know. Better if it storms.”

“You’re scared of storms,” Azusa retorted gently, eyebrows furrowing.

Eyebrows raising in amusement, the older man turned his head to the other with a cheshire grin that hardly reached the corners of his lips, let alone his eyes. “Oh, you remembered, did you?”

Azusa gaped slightly in surprise before huffing softly, shaking his head in disapproval. “That’s entirely irresponsible.”

“It makes me human again, you know.”

“--Eh?” Azusa paused, thrown off by Hiyori’s response. Royal purple eyes sparkled with something the other couldn’t quite put a name to, but he knew it made his gut twist with discomfort and anguish. He didn’t like it, and he wanted to put an end to it.

“Hiyori, I really do think you should come inside. Especially since I do believe it’s going to be a decently sized storm this time, I don’t want you caught in it,” Azusa fretted, tutting in that same disapproval. When he was met with silence, his golden eyes met blank violet orbs again and his stomach dropped. … Perhaps this wasn’t his greatest idea.

“Why?” The producer spoke so softly he nearly rasped the question, his breath passing between his lips in wisps. “Why do you care? There’s no reason for you to, I’m not your responsibility. If anything, it’ll be _my_ head if you catch cold. Go on without me. I’ll be fine. Just forget about it.”

… Well, that was a definite no go. Azusa lowered his legs just to sit criss-crossed, placing his hands into his lap and staring down Hiyori. For a kinder soul, Azusa was still a known caretaker, and one that had a firm hand when needed. Now was no different.

“We go together, or we don’t go at all. That’s final.”

Hiyori stared intensely, eyes even narrowing scrutinizingly before clicking his tongue in annoyance and breaking eye contact. He started to do that anxious habit Azusa had very freshly, very recently picked up on--tapping his fingers to his thumb in rapid succession. Index, middle, ring, pinkie… Over and over… One, two, three, four… Rinse, repeat. Azusa figured he could throw his mini-tantrum, but he wasn’t budging. He cared. A lot, actually, and that’s why.

He wanted to help Hiyori… He wanted to know why on days like this he felt inhuman, like his existence was on a different plane from everyone else’s, like his voice had to be forced and dredged up from deep within him to utter hardly a whisper. It worried him, for numerous reasons--and Azusa knew that deep down one of them was the desire not to lose Hiyori as a friend. … Confidant? It was odd trying to find a fitting title for the man lately.

“Yeah,” the producer eventually forced a heavy sigh, “We should go in then. I don’t want you getting caught in--”

**CRASH!!**

And just like that, Hiyori’s frame stiffened and he quickly hung his head, knowing his fluffy curls would make for an excellent curtain to hide his now deer-in-the-headlights expression. The hand that was finger tapping made a white-knuckled fist, the other grabbed Hiyori’s pants in a deathgrip. Azusa didn’t need to see Hiyori’s face to know the thunder and following rumbling scared him to high heaven. He hesitantly reached out towards Hiyori’s fist, frowning.

“Hiyori-san, I… I’m going to take your hand, okay? I hope that’s okay, but I would like to help you, so please allow me…” Azusa murmured in an attempt to comfort, using his hand to blanket over and cup Hiyori’s fist. Thankfully, it was the hand closer to the idol. The older swallowed thickly and nodded, allowed the long-haired boy to gently pry open his fist. No sooner did that happen did another crack of thunder sound, and Hiyori’s hand tightly grasped Azusa’s.

The idol wished his body wouldn’t have had such inappropriate reactions like his cheeks flushing a bright pink and his heart stuttering in pleasant surprise.

It would be okay. It would be fine. Azusa just needed Hiyori to see--and believe--that as well. He slowly stood, pulling the now mechanically moving producer up with him. Bit by bit. They could reasonably make haste.

“Come on, I’ll lead,” Azusa spoke a bit louder, a bit firmer, unknowingly a strong tether to the other man’s being and sanity as they made the trek back to Shirasu House. It was uncanny, almost perfect really, timing that it immediately began downpouring as soon as they stepped inside. Azusa turned to face Hiyori--and suddenly he had a face full of curls. Hiyori had dipped down slightly to hug him, embrace him tightly, his whole frame shaking.

Azusa couldn’t recall _anyone_ ever having seen Hiyori in such a state before. Not even himself. Was this the first time he’d let anyone see him like this? Did he trust the idol this much? Azusa wanted to believe that. Desperately. Nothing could dispute it, so it shouldn’t hurt to take a chance and put a bit of weight to the assumption.

“Thank you,” Hiyori spoke weakly, voice cracking and trembling, “I--I wasn’t ever… Expecting anyone, but **_you_** \--Of course you showed up. Eventually. You. It’s always you. Thank you, Azusa-kun. It gets so lonely having to stop existing sometimes.”

Gently pulling and leading Hiyori off to the side, less likely to be seen, Azusa carded his hand through fluffy and silky lilac locks. An attempt to soothe, effective if the almost immediate lull in trembling told him anything. He typically wasn’t such a tactile person, but… With Hiyori, it’d grown almost natural. Azusa didn’t mind it--almost craved it, at times, if he was honest. He allowed the producer to gently place his head under his chin, twirling the tips of more reachable curls. Anything to calm the other.

“I’m always here to support everyone, but especially you, Hiyori-san… You know that. I’d noticed it for a long while now, it just took a while to work up the courage to finally approach you. Please forgive me for not having come to you sooner. I can help you more so now, in the future.”

Hiyori slightly shook his head under Azusa’s chin, “ **No**.”

Stage fright couldn’t hold a candle to the fear that suddenly froze his blood and send shockwaves through his being. But the producer continued on.

“Please don’t say sorry. Let me thank you for ever having come to me to begin with. No one’s ever done it before you. And you did it without second-guessing me. You… I’m happy I met you. Please don’t be sorry for doing something belatedly when the fact you did it at all makes me so elated. Thank you. _Thank you_.”

Something about the resolve in Hiyori’s voice, the pure affection and gratitude, made it crystal clear to the other. And, having said that, Azusa didn’t respond. Simply hugged the other, gently squeezing.

He’d hold Hiyori through any storm, and he trusted the other to do the same for him, he realized. They were becoming quite the duo. And that made Azusa happier than he knew how to comprehend.

**Author's Note:**

> Peep me on Twitter at my main, which is @/akchgr! It's wild, but not in a bad way? I'd love to make friends.


End file.
